


Moira Is Eaten By A Shark At The End

by someonehasto



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gotta get this out before anymore of my headcanons are crushed, god I hope my characterization of her isnt gonna end up completely ooc in retrospect, rip adopted Brigite, you live on in my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 18:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13816935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonehasto/pseuds/someonehasto
Summary: Brigitte is trying to fix her new girlfriends power armor in order to impress her. Unfortunately, it's a task a bit out of her league.





	Moira Is Eaten By A Shark At The End

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my friend who helped me pay for groceries. Luckily they like the same taste in ships as me. They requested Moira be eaten by a shark at some point.

Brigitte was not a genius

It was unfortunate, being that she was the daughter of one of the greatest engineers of the era. Most people upon meeting her assumed she was just as intellectually gifted as her father, asking her complicated questions involving physics and entropy and _math_. Brigitte usually just nodded and went along with it. Her dad had done a lot to help her with studies growing up. She was sufficiently average she thought, maybe even slightly above average. But she did not catch on as quickly as her father or siblings did. And she was fine with that. Most of the time she just let people assume what they wanted about her intellect and ran with it, taking any undue respect it resulted in. It usually went fine.

Up until Fareeha had asked her to repair her Raptora suit.

Fareeha, the most amazing, beautiful, talented, funny, perfect woman she had ever met. The woman she had just tentatively started a relationship with after a childhood of crushes and damn near a decade of separation.

A circuit in the suit zapped her finger and she let out a curse.

“You all right over there?” Pharha called.

“Fine!” she replied smiling back at her.

Her father once said that repairing armor was an act of love. And it was. After a couple years of traveling with Reinhardt she’d come to see that. And god, she wanted to show that sort of love to Faeeha too. To show her how much she adored her.

But those repairs had been to a gen 3 Crusader system. That stuff was ancient. It was loose wires and cracked metals, not jets, balancing systems, and internal AI.

They were in the garage nearest Brigitte’s quarters in the Gibraltar base. Winston had been more than happy to accommodate her tinkering hobbies. It was big and spacious, a sun roof bathed the place in the soft natural light of the coast The place was mostly empty so far except her cabinet of tools and an old scooter motor she had been trying to fix and re-purpose. The rest of the garage was open space, a cot for when she got tired, and a mini fridge full of instant coffee and soda.. Pharah had added a sound system in one corner, and a basketball hoop on of of the empty walls. Brigitte had gotten it for her as a sort of welcome home surprise.

Pharah dunked the basket, swinging from the rim in victory.

“And the crowd goes wild!” she said whisper screamed, quiet fake cheers following after.

Brigitte giggled, before looking back at he suit.

The cool steel plating reflected her own image back at her, melted and contorted in the sky blue steel. She could see Fareeha, wiggling around like a clown made of noodles, reflected in the armors back right shoulder blade. Scratches and blast marks here and there, but no sign of something she could easily fix.

“When that things finally patched up I’m taking you to a real basketball court and show you all the trick shots you can make in it.”

“Does it count as a trick shot if you’re using a Raptora suit to cheat?” Brigitte asked.

“It’s not cheating if everyone on the team has one.”

She snorted, turning back around to examine the suit. In the time she had been “repairing” it she had only opened the defensive plating on one of the thrusters, picked at some dirt on the engine, and thoroughly dusted the inside with her screwdriver. A diagnostics tool sat by her side, connected to the suit and reading out some statistics, few of which she could understand. She was fifty percent sure she knew what the problem with the engines was, but she zero percent sure she knew how to fix it.

“You ok?” Fareeha said coming up behind her. The basketball bounced effortlessly between Pharah’s legs, her gaudy off color basketball shorts swishing lightly with the motion.

“Yeah I’m good.”

“You sure? You’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?” she asked looking up at her.

“When you think really hard your left eyebrow twitches and you stick out your tongue.” she replied with a smile.

“Really?”

“Torby’s the same way.”

Brigitte swatted at her kneecaps and Fareeha laughed. She tossed the ball aside and sat behind her with a huff, wrapping her arms around Brigitte’s waist and resting her head on her shoulder. Brigitte grinned and leaned back into the embrace. Pharah and stuck her tongue out at her.

“Take a break!” she said.

“I don’t need a break.”

“You’ve been fussing over it for an hour now.”

And I haven’t done anything during that time, Brigitte thought.

“At your request.” she said instead.

Fareeha squeezed her gently, pecking her on the cheek as she did. Brigitte turned and saw she was looking up at her. Her big brown eyes reflecting the light of the summer sky above them. Oh god, not the puppy eyes.

“Alright,” she sighed. “What do you wanna do for a break?”

Pharha winked, quickly sitting up and walking to the other side of the garage to the sound system. Brigitte leaned back, laying herself on the floor as she watched her girlfriend. There was a beep. Fareeha turned up the sound and the garage was filled with the dulcet tones of electric guitar and wailing vocals.

It soothed Brigitte on a deep, almost spiritual level.

“A soldier can’t shoot if they’re too distracted, and a mechanic can’t work if she’s too frustrated.” she said walking back over to her. “Breaks will make you live longer.”

“You take breaks while on security duty?”

“When I want to.”

She reached down a hand and Brigitte took it, lifting herself with ease. They were now stood facing each other. Brigitte wondered if her eyebrow was still twitching.

“When did you get so old?” she asked. “Mother henning like this.”

“I’ve got to keep my team in good condition. Make sure you’re ok. It’s something I’ve been trying to get better at.” she said looking away.

“Are we a team?”

“I sure hope so.” she said with a smile. “If not, we’re gonna be soon.”

And she started dancing.

Brigitte was an awful dancer but thankfully Pharah was worse. Their dancing amounted to the two of them bouncing around and thrashing their heads to the beat, bumping into each other as they song continued. She could remember lazy summer days when Pharah was back home from Canada, and the two of them would have sleepovers to catch up. The various dances they would attempt to various awful music albums that Fareeha had discovered on her journeys. It had always been an eclectic set of movements and jumps that had no form or artistry to them. But that was what was fun about it.

Pharah was an awful dancer just like her, and Brigitte loved that.

The song ran over and the continued to the next. Pharah on air guitar and Brigitte rocking the air drums and air triangle.

Eventually after a song or two their dances slowed. Fareeha was smiling at her, bits of hair clinging to her face. It made Brigitte smile too. Out of breath, feeling pretty good, and looking at her girlfriend she suddenly felt far more relaxed. The tension she hadn’t even felt was gone.

“I….”

She blinked.

“I don’t actually now how to repair the Raptora suit!” Brigitte blurted.

Pharah stopped dancing and looked at her.

“I’m sorry!” Brigitte continued hand over mouth. “When you asked I thought I’d have it handled and I wanted to impress you and everything but I cant.”

“What have you been doing the past hour??”

“Cleaning the inside of the thrusters!”

Fareeha looked at her, face scrunched up in confusion. But then, after the words had finally digested, she burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry!” Brigitte repeated.

“No it’s fine!” She said, now wiping away tears. Oh my god she had made Fareeha cry. She was going to use one of those thrusters to jump off a cliff.

“I just… I just had this image of me being able to fix all your stuff and then you could like, fly me around or something and it’d be all romantic and cool and... _shit._ ”

“I appreciate it, I really do!” Pharah said taking in a breath. She pulled Brigitte into a hug. Sticky from the sweaty dancing.

“I just wanted to impress you.” she sighed. “God I sound like a teenager.”

“It’s not like I would have been able to fix it either.” she replied nudging her shoulder. “Relax! I’ve got plenty of people willing to fix it for me.”

“Just bring me...smaller things to fix. Or older things. I can do that. Small and old things are my specialty.”

“I have an old speaker system that needs tuning.” she offered.

“The speaker doesn’t have rockets on it does it?”

“….not yet.”

“Then I could probably fix that.” she smiled.

“You’re ridiculous.” Fareeha sighed.

Brigitte laughed and took a step back. The music was still going and the Raptora suit was still sitting in a sad little heap in the corner of the garage, the diagnostics machine still beeping.

Brigitte hugged her again, resting her head on her shoulder.

“You’re thinking of putting speakers on your Raptora suit aren’t you?”

Fareeha stretched her way out of the hug, stealthily avoiding the question with-

“Lets blow this popsicle stand.”

Brigitte snorted, following her as she walked towards the door of the garage.

“Gym and smoothies?” Pharah asked. “Dancing’s gotten me all worked up.”

“God, yes.” Brigitte sighed. “Something I’m good at.”

She swung her arm around Fareeha’s shoulder, leaning on her for support. The two headed out of the garage.

Somewhere in Ireland, Moira was tossed into the ocean by a crowd of angry people. She was soon after devoured by a shark.

**Author's Note:**

> Yall will pry Average Intelligence!Brigitte and Pharah from my cold dead stupid hands.
> 
> Thank you once again to my friend for helping me eat ;o;


End file.
